


one, two, princes kneel before you

by shxrogane (minsazucar)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Ice Skating, M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, awkward skating around feelings (literally) ensues, keith and shiro are In Love but they can't admit it...., ok that's it. i had fun with this lol. enjoy., side Allurance, winter sports AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-19 12:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14237631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minsazucar/pseuds/shxrogane
Summary: “So, I’ve been thinking…” he started slowly, catching Keith mid-sip.“Sounds dangerous,” Keith smirked and Shiro shoved him playfully.“I’ve been thinking,” he continued firmly, keeping eye contact, “I can skate… you can skate… so y’know… we could maybe… skate together. Or something.”Keith furrowed his brows. “Shiro. We’re skating together right now.”“Uh, yeah. But we could like… skatetogether. Maybe as like…” he took a deep breath and let out the next words on a single exhale, “A special pair skate opening for the charity figure skating exhibition in August?”---the overly self-indulgent ice skating au i've been craving. you're welcome.





	1. Chapter 1

The ice was smooth underfoot, freshly pressed by the zamboni just moments before. Lance glided in a smooth backwards stroke, dragging Allura along in a warm-up hold as she stretched. His mind wandered as they carved gracefully around the rink, something he rarely allowed himself to do while skating. And it had everything to do with the pair sitting on the rinkside benches.

Lance grimaced as Shiro and Keith sat, chatting amicably even as their posture betrayed their awkwardness. He forced his eyes away and focused back on the ice. He did a quick spin with Allura to change their positions, and then dipped forward and stretched into an arabesque. Allura tutted and he groaned, extending his leg further and perfecting his form.

When she finally gave her approval, he dropped his leg and straightened up, sighing in relief. He was getting ready to stretch the opposite leg when he made the mistake of looking back at the benches.

Shiro was standing, waving goodbye to a still seated Keith. He watched in gross fascination as Shiro turned and walked away, Keith’s eyes never looking away, following the man’s every movement. He turned back to Allura with a look of disgust.

“Allura, I can’t take this anymore,” he groaned, gripping her forearms as they slowed their skating.

She raised a delicate brow, turning to the side Lance had been staring at. Her mouth turned down in distaste as she noticed Shiro paused at the exit, taking a last, longing glance back at Keith’s seated form. She turned back to Lance with bright eyes.

“Agreed. I feel it’s time to put our plan into action.”

Oh? She couldn’t mean… His eyes widened in realization and she grinned, confirming his suspicions.

“I love the way you think, babe.”

“Of course you do,” she laughed. “I’ll handle Keith, you can take Shiro.”

“Roger that.”

He mock saluted and she shook her head with a laugh. 

“Now focus. We need to practice our lifts.” Her smile faded, back to business, and she narrowed her eyes threateningly. “If you drop me, I _will_ kill you in cold blood.”

“Understood.”

He turned his focus wholly on the girl in front of him, which wasn’t all that hard. Allura never made empty threats. Just another reason why he loved her.

“Lance! Focus!” She snapped, getting in position for a lasso lift.

“I _am_ princess.” He laughed, tightening his grip and locking his stance. “Up you go!”

 

❄ ❄ ❄

 

Shiro pushed open the doors to the training facility, the duffel bag over his shoulder heavy with the weight of what was to come. Well, it was heavy with the weight of his skating gear, but that's beside the point. Hockey practice didn’t start for another five hours; that wasn’t why he was here.

He slowly put one foot in front of the other, making his way to the south rink, resigned to his fate. The south rink was where the speed skaters held their practice at this time. In fact, he knew their practice ended just about ten minutes ago. That meant Keith would still be around, cooling off in the rink before putting in even _more_ practice. 

The perfect time to catch him for a little chat.

He looked through the glass doors to the rink. There were a couple skaters still on the ice. Most were either loitering on the benches or had already left. His eyes immediately latched onto Keith’s form, gliding gracefully as he caught his breath. Shiro’s hands hesitated on the door handle. He ought to just save himself the embarrassment and leave before he was spotted.

But then he remembered his conversation with Lance yesterday. He remembered the whole reason he was here. He had to do the unthinkable: he had to convince Keith to skate a pair program with him. Even the thought of it still brought a rush of heat to his face, and he stepped away from the door to compose himself.

He could do this. He _had_ to do this. Failure was not an option. Not when Lance was the owner of such dangerous footage. Shiro turned back to the door and walked forward, not hesitating to throw them open and march his way over to the benches. No one really paid heed to his grand entrance, too preoccupied with packing up and leaving. Keith was the last skater on the ice.

Shiro couldn’t help but pause and just… watch him _skate_. He moved across the rink with a calm focus, as if nothing else mattered but him and the ice. It was mesmerizing, really, how in tune with his body Keith was. Shiro could see it in every movement, every calculated shifting of muscles that could only come with years of practice and talent.

Not wanting to disturb his friend just yet, he took a seat on the bench and dropped his bag. He dug out his own skates and quickly strapped them on. A look at the rink showed him that Keith was still mindlessly sliding around, doing some balance stretches. He took the covers off his blades and entered the rink, skating over to Keith. He knew the exact moment Keith spotted him, because his eyes widened right before he lost his easy balance and fell on his ass.

Shiro couldn’t help but laugh, even as he held out a hand to help Keith up. Maybe sometimes Keith got a little _too_ absorbed in skating. He recovered quickly, shooting Shiro a grateful smile, despite it being Shiro’s fault he’d fallen in the first place. But that’s just the way Keith was.

They skated around for a while, an easy flow of conversation filling the space between them. The winter sports competitive season had just ended a month ago, so things around the training facility weren’t as exciting as usual. But just because competition was over didn’t mean they could slack off. Practice now was more important than ever, both to stay in shape and get ready for the next season.

This would be the season that the public would _really_ be watching, since it would start determining who might be good candidates for the olympics in two years. Shiro wanted to be on that team again. So did Keith, which was why he was still here.

Their conversation lulled into a comfortable silence, both of them simply skating in familiar company. Shiro enjoyed these quiet moments as well. Shiro just enjoyed being with Keith in general.

“Wanna race me?” The smaller man declared suddenly, looking up with a devious grin.

“That wouldn’t be fair- hey!” Shiro gaped in disbelief as Keith shot ahead suddenly.

Okay, so Shiro enjoyed being with Keith _most_ of the time.

He scrambled into motion, pushing forward to try and catch up to Keith. It was a useless endeavor, really. Even if he’d had enough warning, he was still no match for Keith’s speed. This was the guy that had won silver not too long ago. But Keith wasn’t being all that serious about a race, considering Shiro was able to catch up after three laps. 

Shiro reached forward—bless his long reach—and managed to yank at Keith’s sweater, throwing him off balance enough to slow him down. He was breathing heavy, not used to maintaining such high speeds for so long. Keith, on the other hand, had barely broken a sweat, but his cheeks were pink with exertion, and he was laughing.

Shiro suddenly struggled to catch his breath for different reasons.

He made his way over to the side of the rink for a water break, and Keith followed with an easy smile. Shiro watched Keith take a long swig from his bottle and took a steadying breath. This was his chance to bring up the dreaded topic. It was now or never.

“So, I’ve been thinking…” he started slowly, catching Keith mid-sip.

“Sounds dangerous,” Keith smirked and Shiro shoved him playfully.

“I’ve been thinking,” he continued firmly, keeping eye contact, “I can skate… you can skate… so y’know… we could maybe… skate together. Or something.”

Keith furrowed his brows. “Shiro. We’re skating together right now.”

“Uh, yeah. But we could like… skate _together_. Maybe as like…” he took a deep breath and let out the next words on a single exhale, “A special pair skate opening for the charity figure skating exhibition in August?”

Keith stared at him with wide eyes. Shiro fought not to look away, even as his face got uncomfortably warm. Keith’s brows knitted in confusion again, and when he spoke it was almost solemn.

“Shiro.”

“Keith.”

They stared at each other for a beat of silence.

“You’re a hockey player.”

“I am.”

“I’m a speed skater.”

“You are,” Shiro nodded again.

Keith paused a moment, mouth opening and closing as he searched for the right words.

“Why would-- how do… can you even _dance_?”

Of all the exclamations, all the possible reasons to say ‘no’, Shiro hadn’t really been expecting that one. He brought a hand to his chest in mock offense. 

“Excuse you! I’m an excellent dancer.”

Keith sighed, even as amusement tugged at his lips. “Did Allura put you up to this?”

“No!” Shiro denied with a wide smile, pausing dramatically for a minute. “It was Lance.”

Keith smiled and rolled his eyes, looking away. He seemed pretty pensive, more so than Shiro thought he’d be. Maybe he was just thinking up the perfect way to reject him without sounding mean. The smaller man nodded to himself, turning his bright eyes back to Shiro, and he held his breath.

“Okay.”

Shiro sighed in disappointment, ready to accept his fate now that Keith had said no-- _wait a minute_.

“What?” He asked dumbly, eyes wide.

“I said okay. Let’s do it.” Keith nodded again, more resolutely. He smiled wryly, “Those two won’t leave us in peace otherwise, right?”

“Uh, right,” Shiro nodded slowly.

“Okay.” Keith said once more, quieter this time. He looked up at the large digital clock that hung above the rink and frowned. “They’re still in practice for another two hours.”

“Wanna grab lunch while we wait?” Shiro suggested.

“Olive Garden?”

Keith glanced up at him with a hopeful look and Shiro laughed.

“Of course.”

 

❄ ❄ ❄

 

When they returned to the training center two hours later, Allura and Lance had been waiting expectantly for them in the north rink. They didn’t seem surprised at _all_ that Shiro and Keith were there, finally agreeing to learn figure skating with them. In fact, they pulled out a training calendar, meticulously color coded, and started talking in tandem about how _fun_ this would all be.

Keith had to wonder what exactly they bribed Shiro with—although, the man had always been too nice to begin with—but Keith knew quite well what had brought _him_ there.

As Lance prattled on, he caught Allura glancing at him teasingly and sent her a nasty glare. She raised an eyebrow, clearly challenging him, and he clenched his teeth, looking away. Under normal circumstances, although Allura was terrifying, Keith had no problem going toe-to-toe with her. But this time, she had an ace in her pocket.

“So, since you’re both here already, why don’t we get started today?”

Keith was brought out of his thoughts by Lance’s chipper proposal. He looked at Shiro, who stared back at him with an equally startled expression. Keith couldn’t think of a convincing enough argument to put off practice. It seemed that Shiro couldn’t either. They had no choice but to agree.

“Wow, can you guys speak telepathically or something?” Lance snorted.

“We’ll take that as a yes!” Allura butt in before they could respond. “If you play nice, we might even let you pick who gets to be whose instructor.”

They exchanged another wide-eyed look and then raced to put their skates. The sound of Allura and Lance’s laughter interrupted them in their quest.

“Not so fast! If you’re gonna learn figure skating, you need _figure_ skates.”

Oh. Right. Their normal skates were… different. Keith inspected the pair of skates he was handed. The blades were shorter than his speed skates. Also, the blades seemed just a fraction thicker than Shiro’s hockey skates. Someone who’s never skated might not think the difference was so major, but Keith knew better. Even the slightest change to blades would completely alter the way he balanced on the ice.

A little slower this time, Shiro and Keith went to work strapping on their new skates. They wobbled onto the ice and struggled through a few laps and warm-up stretches.

Honestly, there was really no good outcome to choosing their own instructor, not when there was only two options. Lance was… fine, he supposed. But after a while, he tended to grate on Keith’s nerves, and the feeling was mutual. That kind of inevitable annoyance could prove dangerous when combined with high speed gliding on finely sharpened knife shoes.

It didn’t matter in the end, it wasn’t like they _actually_ let them choose who to pair with. Lance got to work with Shiro, and Keith ended up with Allura. Again, under normal circumstances, this situation would have been preferable. He and Allura worked well together; or they would, if he weren’t still pissed at her for the whole blackmail situation.

Keith was sure blackmail was against the official winter sports rules or something, but it wasn’t like he could be bothered to check. What if he took her to court and she had to play the blackmail video as evidence? Keith would rather die. A full five minute video of Keith, drunk off his ass, confessing his love for Shiro to a secretly filming Allura. 

He would never get drunk at an after party ever again.

Practice then started in full force. For the next hour and a half, Keith and Shiro were confined to opposite sides of the rink, slowly being contorted into more and more impossible positions. It started simple enough: relearning crossovers with grace, refining their power pulls, trying some basic spins. Then they started moving on to more challenging poses.

In theory, an arabesque wasn’t all that hard. Keith could do it, no problem. But _apparently_ he lacked proper posture, because Allura had him repeating the move for the past twenty minutes now.

“Come now Keith,” she tutted, tapping his leg higher while he held onto the railing. “I know you have some grace in that small body of yours.”

“Stop calling me small,” he grit out, but it lacked bite.

Either way, she ignored his complaints, lifting his leg even higher. He huffed and fought to find his balance. She stepped back and looked him over, humming thoughtfully. 

“Well, at least you have more finesse than Shiro,” she concluded.

Keith put his leg down and looked over at where Lance was instructing Shiro. He snorted. 

Hockey was all about power skating, which technique-wise was maybe the _complete_ opposite of figure skating. Speed skating was also considered a power skating sport, but if there was ever such a thing as a “grace spectrum” for ice sports, his sport would fall somewhere in the middle. Hockey and figure skating were _definitely_ on opposite ends of the spectrum. His mouth twitched into a full smile as he watched Shiro crash to the ice after losing his balance on a spiral, _again_.

“Eyes on me, else I might start recording you again,” Allura threatened with a bright smile.

Keith whipped back around, eyes blazing, and she laughed. He took deep, calming breaths; he could endure this. He had to.

“What is it that Lance always says? Don’t hate the player, hate the game?”

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of hate to go around,” Keith growled. Allura just smiled, clearly amused.

“I’m certain you do. But hate isn’t going to straighten that spine, now is it?” She tisked.

Keith let out a sharp breath, veins pulsing with competitive energy. He launched himself away from the railing, gaining speed before dipping into a near perfect spiral. All out of pure spite.

“Or, perhaps it can…” Allura mused under her breath.

But Keith didn’t hear her, because in the next moment his posture wavered, sending him crashing into the ice. He groaned pathetically as cold seeped through his sweats. Distantly, he could hear the raucous sound of Lance’s laughter.

It was going to be a long, _long_ four months.

 

 

Practice, thankfully, didn’t last forever. The torture ended after nearly two hours, Allura and Lance letting them go with a copy each of the training schedule. Keith shoved it in his duffle bag without a second glance. Instead of packing up, Shiro just slid some protectors on his blades and started pulling out his protective gear. Hockey practice would be starting in just another half hour at the south rink.

“Are you gonna be okay for practice?” Keith wondered out loud.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Shiro smiled, strapping on his knee pads.

Keith fought his instinctual reaction to respond with _‘I’m not worried,’_ because that would be a lie. And if there’s one thing he learned over the years, it’s that he hated lying to Shiro.

He let Shiro finish gearing up in their usual, comfortable silence. Then, wordlessly, he walked him across the training facility to his practice session. There was no real reason to do so except that he wanted to. Shiro didn’t mind and so it just became part of their routine when they were training together.

The south rink was already bustling with activity. Most all of the league was already present, in varying states of stretches and warm-ups. Shiro moved to join them, giving Keith a small wave, which he awkwardly returned. He was so focused on watching Shiro’s retreating figure, that the sudden presence of a hand on his shoulder nearly made him yelp.

“Staring at Shiro’s ass again I see?”

Keith looked down, leveling a useless glare at a highly amused Pidge. At this point in their friendship, she was immune to his sour attitude.

“Why are you even here? The women’s team practice ended three hours ago.”

“Uh, duh, Matt’s my ride home. But don’t worry, I haven’t been bored. Watching you and Shiro awkwardly ice dance around your feelings for two hours was pretty damn entertaining.”

Keith stared at her with wide eyes, rendered absolutely speechless. Someone watching their practice was one thing, but _Pidge_ watching their practice? That was something totally different. That meant she had footage of the entire event, from three different angles, already uploaded to two different backup servers.

He’d had enough talk about blackmail for one day.

With a sharp huff, he span on his heel and marched out of the rink, throwing up a middle finger in Pidge’s direction for good measure.

He didn’t need his hopeless crush on Shiro rubbed in his face constantly. In fact, he’d rather not think about it at all. It only ever complicated things after all. He was perfectly content with his lot in life, with Shiro as his friend, his _best friend_. He’d never risk that, never shake the foundations of maybe one of his closest relationships. He’d been pining from a distance for years now, and he’d do it for several years more, if that’s what it took.

As long as he could stay by Shiro’s side, it was enough.

 

❄ ❄ ❄

 

It had been about two weeks since they’d started figure skating training, and Shiro never knew he had so many hidden muscles that could ache this much. The carefully nurtured strength he used in hockey was almost useless for figure skating. It was like learning to walk all over again. Except it was nothing like that at all.

They would meet three times a week for two hours. Now, six sessions in, Shiro could finally skate a straight line with “proper posture”, whatever that meant. He couldn’t help but notice how Keith had acclimated a lot faster than him. He wondered if it had to do with his different style, or with his fierce determination. Probably a bit of both.

Today, when they arrived at the rink, Allura and Lance were waiting for them. Except, they weren’t in the rink and their skates were off. Then Allura smiled and Shiro felt his blood freeze.

“We’re going to take a break from the ice.”

When they were led away from the rink, down a hall and into a small studio, Shiro knew he was done for.

Dancing lessons. They had to learn how to _dance_. And this right here was the part Shiro had been dreading. Him and Keith, face to face, hands on hips, hands on shoulders, stumbling to a simple beat while Allura directed and Lance laughed. It was like his worst nightmare come to life, except he couldn’t wake up from this.

But Keith made the cutest faces when he was concentrating, so really it wasn’t all that bad. At that moment, distracted by the pout on his friend’s face, he stumbled again, stomping Keith’s foot in the process. Allura shut off the music. 

“I didn’t think it was possible, but somehow you’re both even _worse_ without skates.”

“I thought you said you were an _excellent dancer_ , Shiro?” Keith hissed as he rubbed his foot, but it lacked venom.

“I’m a pro at the Casper slide?” He shrugged.

“I hate you.”

They both chuckled, an exhausted sound. At least they were both horrible at this together. Lance cleared his throat, catching their attention.

“Okay, we’re splitting you up. Time to learn with the _real_ pros.”

“Shiro, you’re with me,” Allura called out, stern. “Keith, you get Lance.”

“What, why?” Keith sputtered. Shiro tried his best to stifle a laugh.

Allura sighed. “Because, for all intents and purposes, Shiro will be taking the masculine role, and you’ll be in the feminine role. Shiro needs to learn how to lead a dance. You need to learn how to follow.”

“What she said,” Lance agreed with a smile, but it was strained. Neither Keith or Lance were happy about this arrangement it seemed.

Once on opposite sides of the studio, instruction began once more. Shiro focused intently on Allura’s instruction, doing his best to lead a simple box waltz. Twenty minutes and a cold-sweat soaked shirt later, Shiro was ready to go home and write his will, because he was sure Allura was going to kill him if he stepped on her foot one more time.

His ass was saved at the last minute, when Keith and Lance escalated from sharp remarks to straight up shouting. Allura let him go with a grumble, ready to release her pent up frustration on the bickering pair instead. Shiro took the moment to collapse on the ground and rest, no energy left to try and go save Keith.

He didn’t think it was possible, but this was gonna be even harder than he originally thought.

 

 

Against all odds, they _did_ manage to learn to dance eventually. Two weeks later finds them back in the studio, managing a fairly decent waltz and foxtrot. Shiro had to admit, once they got over their initial clumsiness, they really weren’t all that bad together. Then again, he felt that he and Keith had always been somewhat in tune with each other. It’s how they became such easy friends, all those years ago.

Shiro can still recall the first time they met, preteens with big dreams of gold medals. Keith had been all fire, had been the thing that kept Shiro’s motivation steady as he went through the rough patches of his hockey career. It was that burning resolve that got him back on the ice after his accident. It was that fire that rekindled his own love for the sport, working harder than ever to overcome everyone’s doubts.

In return, Shiro liked to think he had a good effect on Keith as well. An equal, yet opposite effect. The temperance to that bright flame. Keith was a star that shone bright, sometimes _too_ bright, and everyone had expected him to burn out before his twenties. Shiro couldn’t count the number of times he had to coax some patience into his friend. But it had been well worth it.

Now, nearly ten years later, they were still entering their prime. At 21 and 23, they could easily last another decade on the ice. Another two Olympics if they were lucky. Ice sports were harsh and unforgiving as one aged, but Shiro firmly believed that together, they could endure it all.

His moment of heartfelt musing was broken when he lost rhythm, smashing Keith’s foot and receiving a headbutt in return. They broke apart with matching groans of pain and the music stopped.

Allura and Lance exchanged a lingering look and shrugged. 

“Good enough.”

Shiro and Keith looked over, confused yet hopeful.

“That’s enough practice for today. Good job boys. On Friday, we’ll be back on the ice.” Lance clapped with a sly smile.

“I hope you’ve been practicing your form in your spare time.” Allura’s eyes narrowed at them. “We don’t have time to slow down if we want you performance ready in just three months.”

They shared a nervous glance as the skating couple left the studio. Shiro had been so focused on mastering the dance moves that he’d forgotten to practice on ice. Going by Keith’s wide eyed expression, his friend was in a similar position. They had two days before the next training session.

“Shiro, are you free this evening?”

“Yeah. Skating date?”

Keith nodded solemnly. “Skating date.”

They dragged themselves to their feet and locked up the studio on their way out. The north rink should be free at this time of night, so Shiro led them in that direction. Keith sat heavily on the bench, grumbling as he strapped on his skates. Shiro did the same, though at a much slower pace. Not because he was especially tired or anything. No, it was simply so he could have a few moments to himself as he watched Keith glide onto the ice and make it his home again.

“You coming? Or is age finally catching up to you?”

“Shut up, you’re not that much younger.”

Keith hummed. “The ice makes every year feel like five though. Technically, you’re ancient.”

Shiro huffed and Keith grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He finished lacing his skates and slid onto the ice, finding his balance before chasing his friend in one of their customary races. But in the end, it _had_ been a while since they’d been on ice with figure skates, so they barely managed two high speed laps before crashing. They laughed, sprawled on the ice, before getting serious.

It would be an agonizing two hours of crossovers, spins and spirals. At some point, Keith decided it would be a wonderful idea to try some jumps. Not that they’d even been taught any jumps yet. But of course Keith would want to try, and of course Shiro would push himself to match his flame again. 

If he was lucky, maybe Keith would ask to go to Olive Garden after this. One could only dream.

 

❄ ❄ ❄

 

Translating dancing to the ice was a whole other concept Keith had been unprepared for. But thankfully, being on ice improved their coordination instead of hindering it. After a few awkward passes, they found their balance, found their rhythm with each other. After all, on ice there was no stepping on feet. Just blades that could slice flesh instead.

If anything, the added element of danger made them more aware of each other, careful and thoughtful in their movements. The made it through three whole run throughs of each dance without any major mishaps. They did well enough that even Lance had to praise their progress.

“Alright! Now for the _real_ fun,” Lance called out, and maybe Keith had spoken too soon. “Let’s talk choreography.” 

Keith and Shiro shared a grimace. Of course they wouldn’t _just_ be doing a waltz on ice. Keith dreaded to see what Lance and Allura had come up with for their programs. For the charity exhibition, they would be expected to perform a short program _and_ a free skate, just as if they were real skaters. Keith was beginning to doubt it that was possible, based on their progress so far.

“Worry not, we already have something in mind,” Allura added, gliding onto the ice.

“It’s an old throwaway routine Allura and I had a few years back.” 

Lance joined her on the ice, and gave the two men their cue to exit the rink.

“We’ll do a quick run through of the short program first, and you can give us your thoughts.”

“We already toned down the technical difficulty of it, but considering your progress… we’re open to changing it some more.” Lance shrugged with a teasing smile.

And _that_ sounded more like a challenge than an insult, to Keith’s ears at least. With a spark itching under his skin, he leaned up against the railing, watching intently as the two skaters got into position. The song started, an upbeat, older sounding rock track. He could envision it already, Allura and Lance in their sparkling costumes, getting the crowd to clap along to the opening beat.

Then the routine _really_ started.

Keith wasn’t an idiot, nor was he a bad friend. He’d seen Allura and Lance skate programs before, and this routine… it was fun and engaging, but it was nowhere _near_ their normal difficulty level. Lance really hadn’t been lying when he said they toned it down for them. As it stood, it was mainly spins, some coordinated steps, and a couple jumps and lifts.

Keith would be damned if he didn’t learn every single one of those jumps.

The program ended and the pair skated to the edge of the rink, hardly even breathing heavy after their little show.

“Obviously, this program emphasizes jumps and spins, with a few lifts and pair moves sprinkled in. It’s more of a cat and mouse chase than something synchronised, which can prove to be quite fun if done right.”

Allura elaborated, eyes shining bright. It was obvious that she quite liked the program they’d chosen. Keith liked it too, if he was being honest. Shiro on the other hand… he couldn’t quite gauge what Shiro thought of it. His face was schooled into a carefully neutral expression.

“So, what do you two think the story is?” Lance asked, leaning on the railing.

“Story?” Shiro spoke up, caught off guard.

“Yeah!” Lance exclaimed, getting genuinely excited as he explained. “Every good skating program has some sort of story it’s trying to tell. So, what story were we telling?”

Keith bit his lip as he watched Shiro mull over his thoughts. He wanted to hear Shiro’s thoughts before he spoke up. The story of the program… well, it was pretty clear to Keith at least.

“Well, obviously Lance was trying to woo you,” Shiro started, motioning at Allura. “And… you eventually fell for it?”

They all looked at him, waiting for more, but it never came. He simply shrugged in response.

“Alright, nice job scraping the surface Shiro.” Lance replied after a moment of silence.

“It was about forbidden love,” Keith spoke up, unprompted.

“Oh?” Allura asked, quirked lips giving away her satisfaction with his answer. 

“Uh, yeah. The… the song.” Keith searched for the words, trying to piece together the story he’d seen. “Allura was a princess who had to marry a prince her father liked. Lance wasn’t that prince, but he was trying to get Allura to elope with him anyway. She loved him from the beginning but struggled to defy her father. But in the end she decided to follow her heart and elope.”

There was a moment of silence, before Lance clapped him on the shoulder.

“Wow, so you _do_ have a brain up there, huh?”

“Shut up Lance.”

“Very good Keith!” Allura chirped, obviously overjoyed that one of them had caught on.

Shiro leaned down to whisper in his ear. “You really got all that from a two minute dance?”

Keith shrugged, eyebrows raised to say ‘duh.’ Shiro snorted and shook his head.

“This was a short program we choreographed for an exhibition show a couple years back. The plot is more obvious when we’re in full costume, since then I look more like a princess, and Lance is very clearly a prince,” Allura explained.

“And… this is what we’ll be doing?” Shiro asked hesitantly. Keith frowned at his friend’s thinly veiled displeasure.

Allura clapped mockingly, but her smile was still genuine. “Yes! You see, we chose this program because it’s fun and entertaining.” 

“Also, the name of the song is ‘Two Princes’, which will make a lot more sense since both of you will be a prince,” Lance chuckled.

Keith nodded slowly. He could see it in his mind’s eye. He didn’t even need to ask the next part, but he did anyway, just for the hell of it.

“And I have Allura’s part, right?”

“Yup! This is gonna be you looking pretty, and Shiro doing a whole lot of showboating.”

“Great,” Shiro grumbled.

Keith shot him another confused look. He could understand feeling intimidated about the whole routine, but Keith couldn’t quite understand why Shiro was being so gruff. It wasn’t like him to be this negative. Usually, that was Keith’s job. Maybe Shiro was just having a bad day? He would ask him about it later if he got the chance. 

Right now, his attention was on the ice as Allura and Lance separated them to opposite sides of the rink. They’d learn the basic steps and tricks individually first, and then bring it together after they were a bit steadier. All to avoid undue injury and all that. So Keith tucked Shiro away in the corner of his mind and turned to Allura with his new resolve.

“In the program, you were doing single loop jumps.”

She smiled. “I was.”

“I want to learn double loops,” he stated firmly and her smile only grew.

“I was hoping you’d say that. I’ll turn you into a figure skater yet.”

 

❄ ❄ ❄

 

“I do _not_ peacock around like that!” Shiro hissed as he skated after Lance to the other side of the rink.

“I never said you did,” Lance shrugged, all easy nonchalance. “Like Allura said, it’s a program from a few years back. Maybe it just _happened_ to be a little too appropriate for the situation?”

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath in and releasing it slowly. If it was Lance’s goal to get him riled up, then he’d surely succeeded. Maybe to Keith that routine hadn’t seemed like anything more than a regular short program. But Shiro knew exactly when he was being made fun of.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been teased about it, after all. 

Not just Lance and Allura, but even his friends on he hockey team poked fun at him. Because _apparently_ he had the tendency to show off whenever Keith was around. Which he adamantly denied, of course. Just because he tried a little harder, felt a little more motivation when Keith’s eyes were on him… that didn’t mean he was peacocking or whatever.

“Dude, seriously, stop sulking. It’s literally just a coincidence. Besides, Keith likes it when you get all showboaty.”

“Not helping, Lance.”

The skater held up his hands in surrender, smile still tugging at his lips. Shiro took another grounding breath. Patience. _Patience yields focus_. He needed to focus. He could tell that Keith caught onto his earlier distress. He needed to focus and not let his petty feelings get in the way. Not when they’d already come this far. 

On the other side of the rink, he could see Allura already teaching Keith how to set up his jumps properly. He deflated on an exhale.

“Alright Lance. Where should we start?”

The other man smiled, tapping his chin thoughtfully.

“Shiro, how flexible are you?”

 

 

Two hours later, Shiro was sprawled on the ice, not caring one bit that his clothes were getting icy and damp. Keith wasn’t faring much better, but at least he was still on his feet. Just barely, if the shaking of his legs had anything to say about it.

After learning Shiro was _quite_ flexible, Lance had been determined to get him to land a Russian split jump. He had about a 40% success rate, which wasn’t too bad, but still made for some pretty sore falls. Keith had been a lot better at mastering his jumps, until he stubbornly tried adding more rotations, despite Allura’s many warnings. 

“I’m pretty sure my butt is just one, giant bruise,” Keith panted, still catching his breath.

Shiro groaned as he sat up, wincing at his protesting muscles.

“I think my bruises have bruises.”

Lance and Allura watched them from the boards, perfectly composed in a way Shiro was convinced should be impossible.

“For power skaters, you two are pretty delicate.”

Keith’s head snapped up, eyes blazing, and if Shiro had the energy, he’d react the same way. As it was, all he could do was sigh as he got to his feet, fixing the two with tired eyes.

“Well, we’re used to actually wearing protective gear you know. You guys are crazy, doing this in spandex and leotards.”

“There’s no beauty in knee pads,” Lance tisked.

“Let your bruises motivate you. The more graceful you become, the less likely you are to fall. You’ve never worried about grace before, after all.” Allura smiled as she exited the rink. “That’s all for today boys. Take this weekend to recuperate. We’ll see you Monday.”

Shiro and Keith groaned their acknowledgement, limping over to the bleachers. Shiro peeled his skates off, honestly surprised that his feet weren’t bleeding. He shivered as his damp shirt clung to his back. Did he have a spare outfit in his locker? 

“Keith, I’m gonna hit the showers and change.”

“What, realizing now that taking a nap on the ice wasn’t the smartest move?” Keith smirked.

Shiro rolled his eyes. “Shut up. I’ll see you later.”

His friend made a noncommittal sound that Shiro took as a goodbye. He dragged his tired feet over to the locker room, nearly crying with joy as he found that, yes, he did in fact have a change of clothes. He wasted no time in getting out of his damp clothes, yanking off his shirt and kicking off his pants and briefs in one move.

“Wow, I take it back. _Your_ butt is one giant bruise.”

“Jesus Keith,” Shiro slapped a hand against his chest, spinning around in shock. “I thought you left.”

Keith shrugged. “A hot shower sounded too good to pass up.”

Shiro shook his head with a fond smile. He turned back around, quickly wrapping a towel around his waist. He could hear Keith behind him, the rustling of his clothes letting Shiro know he was undressing. The sensible thing to do would be to head straight to the showers. Shiro should leave, find a shower stall, and go about his business. 

But Shiro wasn’t sensible, so of course he turned around instead, right as Keith bent over, pulling down his pants. He let out a low whistle.

“Nope, you were right. You’re all bruise, no butt,” Shiro laughed.

Keith whirled around, pink dusting his cheeks, and oh. That was dangerous. There was nothing more dangerous than a nude, blushing, laughing Keith. It wasn’t the first time they’d seen each other stripped down. Far from it. As athletes, it was almost a requirement to be comfortable with nudity. But that didn’t mean Shiro made it a habit to let his eyes linger.

And so he averted his gaze, trying to keep his laughter playful even while his throat threatened to close. He spun on his heel, making his way towards the showers, whistling in mock innocence.

“Hey! Don’t use all the hot water again!” Keith called after him and Shiro’s answering laugh was genuine.

“No promises!”

He didn’t use all the hot water, of course. They both left the locker room, clean and sore and satisfied.

“Any exciting plans this weekend?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a hot date.”

Shiro felt a flare of jealousy shoot through him. He quickly smothered it down, giving his best try at an interested smile.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Keith looked him straight in the eye. “Me, my bed, and all of my alarms completely shut off.”

Shiro blinked. Oh. He snorted, then laughed, probably more than necessary. But he was laughing at himself as well as at Keith’s joke. His feelings for Keith were bordering on ridiculous. But Keith was laughing alongside him. He really couldn’t ask for anything more than that.

“Well, does your hot date have room for one more?” He asked, teasingly.

“There’s always room for you.”

Keith was still smiling, still playful, but his words held a sincerity that made Shiro’s heart race. He couldn’t just _say things_ like that. He couldn’t say things like that and not expect Shiro to fall for him, he just couldn’t. Shiro let out a sigh, more like a wheeze, and threw a friendly arm around Keith’s shoulder. Friendly, friendly, just like always.

“Thanks buddy. I can always count on you.”

Keith looked up at him with a smile. And was it just his imagination, or did Keith tuck himself closer into Shiro’s side? He took in a deep breath of cool, night air, and let himself believe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song their short program follow is [Two Princes by the Spin Doctors](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6XmNoauuOo) which....big fat shoutout to jo @joltron for recommending the song. i was looking for songs that fit a "royalty" theme and i know she meant it as a joke but damn if it wasn't the perfect song


	2. Chapter 2

“5, 6, 7, 8! Come on, keep time!”

Allura’s guiding voice rang clear over the music, rang clear even over the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Keith huffed and picked up speed, struggling to complete his last set of jumps in their routine. His legs burned. His lungs burned more. But there was just one move left, he could make it, he had to.

Shiro reached out his hand and Keith took it, like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline. One strong pull from Shiro and a small leap from Keith and he was in the air, grip firm around his waist as he was spun around. His own hands were planted on Shiro’s shoulder, shaking with the effort of staying upright.

The final beats of the song played out. Shiro placed him back on the ground, just short of ungraceful, before stopping their spin and enveloping Keith in a warm embrace. Their breathing was loud and harsh now that the music was gone. Keith stayed in Shiro’s arms, not ready to break their ending pose. He wasn’t sure he could stand fully on his own right now.

“Wonderful!” Allura clapped.

“Honestly, I’m actually impressed,” Lance drawled, but his smile was very much pleased.

As much as he didn’t want to, Keith pulled away from Shiro’s arms, doubling over to catch his breath. That was their first, error-free run through, and he felt like _death_. He felt the warm weight of Shiro’s prosthetic pat his back.

“Wow, we really did it,” he breathed out in something like awe.

Keith smiled up at him. “Heck yeah we did.”

“Alright, take a break,” Lance commanded, herding them out of the rink. 

“Meanwhile, we’ll get set up to show you the next routine,” Allura added, skating over to the music player.

That gave them pause. In their rush to master the short program, Keith had forgotten they had a _second_ routine to learn. A free skate program, which would be twice as long. He could hardly resist collapsing onto the benches, Shiro not far behind him. Maybe Allura and Lance would be merciful and present them with a nice, simple, _easy_ free skate program.

Wrong.

Keith was given a sense of false hope when song started. It was a slower tempo, more melancholy than ‘Two Princes.’ A few more seconds in, he recognized it being by that one band Shiro really liked. Sleeping at Last or something like that. It was a nice song. He would have to sit down and listen to it with headphones, instead of the distorted echo the arena caused.

If the first program told the story of young, forbidden love, then this free skate told the next chapter. As Allura and Lance flew across the ice, all graceful touches and swirling movements, Keith knew that this was the prince and princess’ happily ever after. It was a dance that told the story of dedication, of love and devotion. It was their wedding, their honeymoon, and their _forever_ all in one.

All in all, it was fucking _intimate_ , and Keith felt anxiety crawl up his throat. He was supposed to perform _this_ with _Shiro_? 

“Just kill me now,” Keith rasped, fighting not to choke.

“Only if you kill me first,” Shiro snarked back, but he sounded strangely choked as well.

Allura and Lance finished their routine with a death spiral, which raised into a slow motion pair spin, and ended in an embrace that mirrored the short program’s ending pose. Except, this embrace was vastly different. The energy, the intimacy of it… for the first time, Keith wasn’t convinced they could pull this off. Not without spilling his emotions all over the unforgiving ice.

“So? Thoughts?”

Keith groaned and collapsed onto the bench in answer.

 

 

Shiro’s hands were firm around his waist, his arms tensed with the power needed to throw. Keith grit his teeth but faltered at the last second. Instead of letting go and allowing momentum to carry him through the air, he dug his fingers into Shiro’s shoulders, bringing them both crashing onto the ice.

“Keith!” 

Lance’s voice rang shrilly in his ears. He groaned and rolled away from Shiro, back onto his feet, before offering him a hand up. 

“Come on dude, this isn’t that hard,” Lance continued, tapping his skate impatiently.

Keith looked up at him, venom on the tip of his tongue, but Allura beat him to the punch. She smacked the back of his head with a well manicured hand. Lance looked at her in betrayal.

“That’s easy to say for the person _not_ being launched in the air,” she tutted, eyes sharp.

“You okay, Keith?” Shiro asked quietly while the couple bickered.

He sighed. “Yeah, sorry. Are _you_ okay?”

Shiro nodded, smile not quite reaching his eyes. He looked as if he wanted to say more but bit his tongue. Keith frowned, but didn’t press. Shiro was quieter these days, but so was he. Learning the free skate program had been… awkward, to say the least. The closeness required to skate such a piece…

Keith wasn’t a figure skater. He wasn’t an artist in the way Allura and Lance were. But he knew enough to know they had to put _heart_ into a routine like this. Otherwise, no matter how technically excellent they executed it, the delivery would fall flat with the audience.

“Keith.”

Shiro’s firm voice broke him out of his thoughts. He looked up at his friend, momentarily startled by his serious expression. 

“Do you trust me?”

Keith swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. Allura and Lance could still be heard arguing in the background. 

“Yeah,” he answered honestly.

Shiro nodded slowly, never breaking eye contact. It felt like he was searching for something, something in Keith’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what, but he knew the moment Shiro found it. His expression softened, lips tugging into a gentle smile. Keith felt his breath stutter.

“These throws are all about trust. I trust you to be quick on your feet, to be strong and agile. Because I know you are.” His words were steady and full of confidence, in a way that made his heart race. “You need to trust me, trust that I have the strength to send you where you need to go.”

“Yeah…” He licked his lips, putting the confidence he felt back into his voice. “Yeah, I trust you Shiro. Let’s try again.”

Shiro nodded, starting to skate backwards. Keith followed him, slowly at first, before gaining speed. He closed the gap between them, planting his hands firmly on Shiro’s shoulders. He felt that warm grip wrap around his waist again, strong and unyielding. He took in a deep breath, dipped to help the throw with his own leg strength, and he learned to let go.

 

❄ ❄ ❄

 

Shiro sighed as he unlaced his skates, trying to massage some of the feeling back into his legs. Keith sat next to him, skates already strewn on the ground as he chugged a bottle of gatorade. There was a little less than a month left before their big “debut”, and while their short program was pretty darn good, their free skate still left a lot to be desired.

Sure, they could do all the moves by now. They didn’t really mess up all that badly during practice. But their routine was stiff, stilted in a way it couldn’t be. Shiro knew why. He knew what he had to do to fix it. But the thought of exposing his heart like that, of pouring such sincere emotion into a routine when he hadn’t even confessed to Keith yet… it made his stomach twist something ugly.

But what else could he do? He couldn’t just _tell_ Keith how he felt. If he could do that, he would’ve done it a long time ago. But telling Keith how he felt came with the risk of losing his oldest, deepest friendship. It was a risk he’d probably never be willing to take.

Thankfully, Lance chose that moment to trot up to them, breaking Shiro’s mental downward spiral.

“So, we know you two have been struggling with the second program.”

“Which is understandable, considering how much more… artistic it is,” Allura quickly added.

“But we think we know a way to help. Follow us.”

With no other choice, Shiro dragged himself to his feet, lagging a step behind to keep pace with Keith. They were led out of the arena and back into the corridor lined with studios. Shiro frowned. Were they going to have to ballroom dance again? That question was quickly answered when they stopped in front of a door that had Shiro’s gut sinking.

Dressing Room #7.

Allura smiled something wicked. “I think it’s time we started getting you two to _look_ the role of ‘figure skater extraordinaire’, don’t you agree?”

Shiro looked down at Keith, who’s face had gone pale with realization. Shiro didn’t know why Keith would be so embarrassed though. The track uniforms worn for speed skating were skin-tight spandex suits as well. Shiro, however, was used to baggy jerseys and pants and lots and _lots_ of padding.

“Woah now. Don’t look so excited,” Lance drawled sarcastically.

“Not to worry, we’ve saved you the effort of selecting costumes,” Allura continued, not reassuring at all, as she opened the door. “You each have modified forms of our old costumes.”

Keith groaned next to him. “That means…”

“You have to wear a dress?” Shiro looked at his friend in surprise.

Allura’s laugh drowned out his grumbled response. She led them into the dressing room, to the back where the rack of performance costumes hung. It was evident that one rack belonged to Allura and the other to Lance. One was filled with striking blues, dark colors, and notably less glitter. The other rack…

“Oh, don’t give me that face Keith. Have a little faith,” Allura scolded, digging through her colorful clothes pile.

Lance pulled Shiro to the other rack, rustling through it for Shiro’s outfit. He wasn’t eager for that either. Sure, Lance was almost his equal in height, but they had very different builds. He struggled to imagine squeezing himself into an already skin-tight outfit, two sizes too small. In an effort to calm himself, but also out of morbid curiosity, he let his eyes wander to where Keith was being shown his own frilly outfit.

“Oh.”

The sound was quiet and matched the widening of Keith’s eyes. The outfit in Allura’s hand was still obviously a female skater’s, but it had been modified to something more unisex. The skirt split open in the front and a pair of pants were attached to what must’ve been a leotard. It was black at its base, with sheer areas covered in red gemstones along the chest, back and arms. All in all, it was stunning, and Shiro struggled to swallow past the lump in his throat.

“You gonna keep imagining Keith in that dress, or you wanna see your own outfit?” Lance whispered in his ear.

Just like that, his eyes snapped away from the sight, turning back to Lance and safety and sanity. He was surprised to find an outfit thrust into his face. It was… really nice. Not a body suit, so that was good. It was a jacket and slacks, in the style of a classic Disney prince. The jacket was a deep royal purple, accented with gold and black embroidery. Also, it looked exactly his size.

“Like I said, you should have more faith. We’ve been working on altering our costumes to suit you both since the very beginning.”

“Did you really wear this?” Keith asked, eyeing the dark garment doubtfully.

“I did. It’s so lucky we’re the same height,” Allura teased but her expression softened as she ran fingers over the fabric. “Yes, it was originally white, and the areas with mesh were actually bare skin. I had my designer dye it black and add the red gems. Do you like it?”

Shiro watched Keith, watched the way he examined the costume with such rapt attention. Keith liked it, he could tell that much. It was feminine, but masculine at the same time. It would look good on him. He could see how their outfits complimented each other, with matching gold bands and the base of black. For the first time, Shiro was really understanding the “story” of the routine.

“Your costumes for the second routine aren’t done yet actually,” Lance continued.

“But, for good measure, why don’t you try skating with these on tomorrow? It might help you get more into the fantasy of it all.” 

Allura looked up at them not with mischief or glee, but something more genuine. She was giving them something special in those outfits, Shiro knew it. Lance too, from the way he handed the outfit to Shiro, a gleam of hope in his eyes.

“Alright.” 

Keith answered before he got a chance to. Shiro looked over, took note of the fierce conviction in Keith’s eyes, and sighed. He nodded along, accepting his fate. Keith was beyond the point of being embarrassed. With only a month left until their performance, he knew his friend was all competitive energy and bold resolve. There it was again, that fire he could only hope to match someday.

What else could he do but go along for the ride.

 

❄ ❄ ❄

 

This was a big mistake. 

He should’ve known it was a mistake when he first took the costume from Allura’s hands, sleek and shimmering in the light. But he’d been blinded by the fierce determination running through his veins, ignited by the large gesture of faith Allura had given him. Now, standing in the locker room, outfit clinging to curves he never knew he had, he realized just how badly he’d fucked up.

It was skin tight, but that wasn’t a surprise. What did surprise him was just… how _little_ material there was. 

Allura said that they’d covered the cut-out areas with sheer fabrics and gems, but even still it felt like too much. The chest area was cut open, in the shape of a traditional princess cut dress. It tapered again at his waist, gold chiffon woven around to section off where the skirt began. The skirt he didn’t mind, but the pants under it… all along the outside edge, they were cut out, covered up with sheer black material.

It looked good, that much he could admit. But…

“This is _embarrassing_ ,” he hissed, turning to catch a glimpse at his bare, bedazzled back.

“Hey, you’re the one that was all gungho about this. No turning back now.”

Shiro laughed from across the room, adjusting his own costume in another mirror. Easy for him to say. He got to dress up like Prince Charming. Keith was struggling to see any semblance of Prince, or even _Princess_ for that matter, in his elaborate get up.

“Maybe if you add a tiara?” Shiro asked, saddling up behind him to observe his reflection.

And well… actually, now that they stood side-by-side, it came together a little more. The formality of Shiro’s outfit brought out the subtle details in Keith’s. He felt a little less out of place when they were together. Maybe that was intentional. Either way, he huffed and turned away, making his way to the rink.

“Yeah, I’ll need a tiara.”

 

 

Skating in costumes that felt like they covered next to nothing was a challenge in and of itself. He didn’t know how Allura did it, prancing around in an outfit like this. Except Keith had pants added to his, so really, she pranced around in _less_ than this. Incredible. He’d never look at skaters the same way again.

But, if anything good came of this, it was that Shiro looked absolutely dashing in his costume. Of course he would make the perfect prince. Keith never had a doubt about that. But imagining something and then _seeing_ it were very different experiences. It transformed his movements into something more magical. Keith couldn’t tell if it actually helped them get in character, or if he was just viewing Shiro through rose colored lenses, but either way they skated through practice with an ease they’d never quite managed before.

The moment of truth came when the music for the free skate began.

Keith thought maybe he could feel it, the shift in their energy. When he reached out and Shiro grabbed his hand, it felt almost electric. They glided across the ice, executing their carefully rehearsed movements. Keith looked up into Shiro’s eyes, into that familiar warmth, and his breath caught in his throat.

It was getting harder to resist being pulled into his gravity. 

That was dangerous, _this_ was dangerous. Keith could let it go one of two ways: he could continue to get sucked in and get burned up in the atmosphere, or he could fight back. And, well, Keith had always been better at fighting than surrender.

He focused back on his own body, feeling the stretch of his muscles, becoming overly mindful about the position of his leg. He refused to look back up. Keith could feel the routine regress into its characteristic stiffness. Their movements became stilted and the energy was lost. That was the price to pay in order to keep his heart safe.

Dropping into the death spiral was maybe the most challenging part of the routine. He fought to relax into the dip, fought to keep his free leg extended even as his muscles screamed in protest. As he was spun back up, his shoulder felt like it might pop out of the socket any minute. Their final spin and embrace was anything but tender.

They were exhausted, and that was maybe one of their worst rehearsals yet.

Keith broke the embrace first, frustration clawing at his throat, stinging behind his eyes. And no. Hell no, Keith was _not_ going to cry here, in front of everyone, just because of a stupid skating routine.

“I gotta piss.”

He managed to snap out an excuse as he put the blade guards on his skates, and then stormed away towards the lockers. As he locked himself in a stall and felt the hot tears gather, he knew he wasn’t crying because of a skating routine. It wouldn’t be unusual, honestly, to cry out of frustration for something so trivial. But this was bigger, he knew it.

It was the first time he’d been forced to confront his love for Shiro in such a public space. He’d done his fair share of 2am brooding, of listening to sad love songs while staring at his dark ceiling. He wasn’t oblivious to how deep his feelings went. He was, however, unprepared for the sharp sting of looking into the eyes of someone he loved, someone who in that moment _looked like he loved him back_ , and then have to pull back because it wasn’t real.

At the end of the day, none of this was real. It was all a story, a beautifully crafted and choreographed _story_. And Keith would be beyond foolish to let himself get so dragged into it again.

“Keith?”

Shiro’s voice echoed in the empty room and Keith let out a sigh. Of course he would come after him. Shiro was used to his fits of frustration, even if they’d become scarcer as he got older. But old habits die hard, he supposed. 

“Yeah, I’m here,” he called back, taking another bundle of toilet paper and drying his eyes.

He opened the stall and walked over to the sink, splashing some cold water on his face. Shiro stood patiently to the side, giving Keith a chance to pull himself together. He’d always appreciated that about Shiro. He was patient. Patience was something Keith severely lacked, but it’s something he always needed. When people pushed and prodded and forced themselves into his space, he had a tendency to lash out.

Shiro learned that early on, just like everyone else did. But Shiro was the only one that adjusted to meet him in the middle. Keith gripped the edge of the sink. Shiro was too good for him.

“Hey, whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably not true.” 

Shiro’s calm voice interrupted his thoughts. He turned and grabbed some paper towels, rubbing his face dry. Rarely was Keith self-deprecating, but it had a tendency to occur when he was feeling especially low. And this? This was him reaching an all time low.

“How would you know? You don’t know what I’m thinking.” He bit his lip after the sharp retort.

Shiro just hummed quietly. “No, I guess I don’t. But I _do_ know you. And you’re strong, stronger than whatever you’re facing now.”

That made Keith look up. How Shiro could always say the right words, with so much sincerity, was beyond him. But he was nothing if not appreciative, and he let his friend know with a soft smile. Shiro smiled back, maintaining eye contact, until his expression shifted into something _searching_.

He was looking for something again, in that new quiet way of his. What was he looking for? What was Keith showing him? Suddenly, the weight of those eyes became too much. Shiro could probably read him like a book. Shiro could probably see every inch of his dark secrets, if he let him look long enough. So, he didn’t let him.

He turned away with a sharp, “I gotta go.”

Storming away was hard while still wearing skates, but he managed it somehow. He wasn’t sure if he was glad that Shiro didn’t follow. For the first time in a while, he wasn’t sure about a lot of things.

 

❄ ❄ ❄

 

Keith was avoiding him, that much he knew. And, well, maybe he was kind of avoiding his friend too. At the very least, he wasn’t doing anything to stop Keith. Shiro didn’t text him or call him, didn’t ask him to hang out like they usually would. He let Keith keep his distance. 

A part of him tried to justify his actions; Keith needed his space, that Shiro was doing the right thing. The louder, rational part of him knew that he was past the point of ‘letting Keith have space’ and was now in ‘you’re actively avoiding him as well’ territory. One day had turned into two, that bled into three and then four and then _more_.

The only time they really saw each other was skating practice. A forced two hours, three times a week. Their routines, which had been nearly perfect until then, slowly began to deteriorate. Even the short program that was nothing but “fun” was reduced to awkward movements and aborted glances. It was more than just awkward.

It was painful.

Back before this all started, two weeks that felt like an eternity, when they _nearly_ skated the free skate perfectly… it felt like something was on the cusp of changing. 

Those short few minutes where they had been in synch, where Shiro had allowed himself to let his feelings for Keith bleed into their skating, they’d felt nothing short of magical. But he supposed Keith couldn’t keep up the performance, because just as soon as it’d happened, it had ended, and Shiro was left bearing his love to the cold ice.

Now, as he slowly carved his way around the empty rink, he realized he’d been afraid. He was afraid that Keith had seen straight through him, like he always did. That he looked in Shiro’s eyes and saw his heart exposed and realized just how head over heels Shiro was for him. Keith saw all of that and tried rejecting Shiro in the only way he knew; he left him alone.

Maybe alone was what he deserved for being a coward.

Maybe that’s why he was here, long after the training facility had closed, moping around the empty rink that Coran had so graciously allowed him to occupy. His limbs felt heavy and his moves were lazy, but skating around helped. It didn’t help him the same way it helped Keith, but it was soothing. The mindless movement gave him something to focus on besides the weight of his own heart.

Lost as he was in his own mind, he didn’t notice he had company until a loud clatter echoed in the distance. He nearly tripped over his own skates in his haste to look around. He could’ve sworn he locked the door.

“Who’s there?”

Out of the shadows came the last person, but also the _only_ person, he expected.

“It’s just me.”

Keith walked forward, eyes downcast, until he reached the benches and put his duffle bag down. Shiro realized he was holding his breath. This was the first time they’d been alone together in weeks. They stood there, seconds bleeding into each other, until the silence between them grew awkward. Shiro didn’t know how to break it. Thankfully, Keith huffed, speaking up again.

“I wanted to practice. Coran let me in.”

“Oh,” he answered dumbly. He didn’t know what else to say. He licked his lips and looked away, “I can leave. If you want.”

The silence grew thick between them again. Shiro took that as an answer and started making his way to the gate. Keith would make better use of the ice than him anyways.

“No, Shiro, it’s fine,” Keith called out before he could exit the rink.

He paused at the edge, looking at his friend cast in the moonlight. Maybe he should’ve turned the lights on when he got in, but the moon had provided enough of a glow to see, and the dark was calming. Sheltering. Keith looked beautiful bathed in its light. His lips parted on a sigh.

“I want you to stay.”

“Okay,” Shiro agreed without pause.

He continued to slowly lap the rink as Keith sat on a bench, lacing up his skates. Something tightened in Shiro’s chest at the sight. Keith looked tired. He looked as tired as Shiro felt, and it occurred to him that he hadn’t been the only one feeling like shit this whole time. Maybe he was emboldened by the darkness, or by the unfamiliar familiarity of it all. But with a voice much more confident than he felt, he called out.

“Want to practice our routine?”

_Want to try again?_

Keith snapped to attention, conflict clear on his features, in his posture. Shiro’s heart pounded harshly in his chest. He swore it could be heard in the silence of the arena.

“Yeah. The performance is next weekend.”

That wasn’t what Shiro wanted to hear, but it was the objective truth. And it was an allowance. He was allowed to come close again. Whether or not it was under the guise of an impending performance, he would take what he was given, like always. While Keith finished lacing his skates, Shiro hurried to the other side of the rink, digging out his phone and connecting it to the Bluetooth music system.

Keith joined him on the ice, getting a few warm-up laps and stretches in before beginning. Shiro was too tired to pretend he wasn’t watching him the whole time. If Keith was surprised to find him watching, he didn’t show it. He just looked away, as he tended to do as of late, and stood in the center of the rink. That was the starting position, and it was Shiro’s cue to get himself together.

With a deep breath and some gathered up strength, he went to join Keith in the center.

For the first time in a while, he’s grateful the routine began with them back to back. He didn’t have to look at Keith yet. In these few moments, he could pretend he didn’t adore the man standing behind him. He could pretend that it wouldn’t break his heart to face those eyes and have his love continue, unrequited.

He could pretend that he wasn’t so awfully tired, too close to his breaking point to care about pretense.

The music began and he moved, almost on muscle memory alone, and then Keith’s hands were in his, and they were flying. Shiro kept his eyes on everything _but_ Keith’s face for as long as he could, which honestly wasn’t long at all. He caught a glimpse of those eyes that shone nearly violet in the silver moonlight, and he was gone.

He stopped resisting the pull and let himself finally _feel_.

Every movement flowed like water, because the love he carried in his veins was finally free to flow. It was up to Keith if he wanted to accept it or not. It had always been up to Keith. He finished his spin and looked at Keith across the rink. He took a deep breath and started forward, pouring all his sincerity into his movements as he slid across the ice on one knee.

Keith met him halfway, hands on his shoulders, as they rose up as one into a short pair lift. Shiro could feel Keith’s breath hitch, and that’s when Shiro knew he felt it too. Shiro was giving this his all. He put Keith back on the ice, watched his friend dip into a graceful spiral with one outstretched hand.

When he reached out to take it, the feeling was electric.

The rest of the routine felt like that time, all those weeks ago, when Shiro had unwittingly let down his guard. He remembered how stunning Keith looked in his outfit, how he’d been caught off-guard by the sudden adoring look in his friend’s eye. It felt like that, but at the same time it didn’t.

The feeling right now could only be described as _intoxicating_.

The music kept playing and the routine kept flowing and Shiro felt high off the moment. Every touch lit his skin on fire. Every hold and lift left him wanting for more. When he managed to catch Keith’s eyes, they were smouldering with warmth, that carefully kindled flame that was so characteristic of his friend lighting him up from the inside.

The drop into the death spiral was near effortless. His hand was searing where it held Keith, the whole of his being hinging on the trust that Shiro wouldn’t let him go. He wouldn’t let go. So long as Keith wanted him to hold on, he’d never let go.

Using all the strength and grace he had left, Shiro pulled Keith upward, rearranging themselves so they were face to face, completing their last pair spin. The final notes of the song would play and they would end their routine in a tender embrace. However, the song ended, but they didn’t move, just kept spinning, slowly stopping as they lost momentum. 

Keith’s hands were warm, so warm, where they rested on his shoulders. Shiro’s hands were wrapped around his waist, reluctant to let go. Those molten violet eyes were staring into his and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. 

His hands twitched on Keith’s waist, a break in their stalemate, and before he knew it they were flush against each other, lips meeting in a graceless kiss. It was rushed and it was fire, it was burning through Shiro’s lungs, scorching where Keith clutched at his shoulders, then his neck, and then cold. Unbearingly ice cold as Keith pulled away, eyes wide, and stumbled out of Shiro’s hold.

“Fuck. I fucked up. I gotta go.”

Keith’s stilted declaration echoed in the empty space left behind as he hurried across the ice. Shiro had seconds, no, less than seconds to react. If he waited even a moment longer, things were bound to get messy again, and he couldn’t allow that. Not when he knew, not when he _finally_ knew.

Shiro finally put it together, that Keith had been holding that burning inside his lungs all along. And Shiro wasn’t about to let that warmth escape him, not this time. 

By some miracle, he moved fast enough to catch Keith at the edge of the rink. With a firm tug of his hand, he pulled Keith back in. Okay, maybe the tug had been a little _too_ firm. Keith slid back, dragged along as they awkwardly span around, victims to physics and momentum. They were clumsy and uncoordinated, nothing like they were only moments before. Shiro’s skate caught on the edge of the blade, and down they went, tumbling painfully onto the ice.

Shiro winced in mild pain, but forgot it all as he looked at Keith, perched above him. Those eyes that could burn with such an intensity had flickered, smoke signals spelling out confusion and hope and regret all in one. Shiro couldn’t keep the words from spilling out, didn’t _want_ to keep them anymore.

“Keith, I’m in love with you.”

Shiro could feel the moment Keith froze, all the subtle movement going still above him. His eyes went blank for just a second, the calm before the storm, before they were alive with too many emotions to track. Shiro sighed with a wry smile. 

Keith was beautiful, even in this chaos. Even with eye bags and tangled hair and face flushed with exhaustion, he was the most beautiful thing Shiro had ever seen. He was searching for words, Shiro could tell, and he stayed still underneath him, giving him all the time to form a response.

“You can’t just _say_ that,” was what he finally managed to choke out.

Although it was spoken with an edge of retaliation, Keith almost slumped in surrender. The hands on Shiro’s shoulders clenched tightly in his hoodie, even as the tension in the rest of his body faded. Keith wanted to give in, wanted to let go, but Shiro’s words weren’t enough. Of course they weren't. Although the admission was important, the admission declared what needed to be known, Keith had always been a man of action.

“Then let me show you.”

He reached up, threading his hand through Keith’s messy ponytail, giving Keith a moment to pull back. When he didn’t pull away, Shiro smiled and tugged him down, joining their lips in a kiss infinitely more tender than the first. Keith melted into him and the cold ice on his back was no match against the fire raging inside him. 

 

❄ ❄ ❄

 

“I hope you two are ready. This will be your final dress rehearsal,” Allura repeated, for the third time that day.

After their warm-ups, Shiro and Keith had split to squeeze themselves into their first costumes. Now, on the ice and fully bedazzled, Keith felt more ready than ever. His hair was pinned back in a half up-do, a tiny crown resting atop his head. Shiro had been right: the crown really pulled the whole look together. 

They skated together towards the center, circling each other playfully as they settled into their opening pose.

“Ready to show them what we go?” Shiro murmured with a smile.

“You bet. Try to keep up,” Keith shot back with a smile of his own.

The song began and they moved, circling the outside of the edge and clapping, the way they would do Saturday when there was an arena full of people to clap along. Keith counted the beats in his head, and right on cue, span around to watch Shiro slide across the ice on his knees.

_One, two, princes kneel before you, that’s what I said now_

Staying in character, Keith rolled his eyes and skated backwards, watching Shiro scramble to his feet after him. The next minute of the song continued in a cat and mouse chase across the ice. Shiro would cut in front of Keith at random points, pulling some stunt meant to impress. Keith, _the prince_ , refused to be impressed. After the Russian split jump, the musical interlude began.

At that point, Keith’s character finally gave in, accepting Shiro’s outstretched hand and getting pulled into an upbeat dance sequence. He exited the pair dance with a double-toe single-loop combo jump, landing right on beat with the next lyrics.

_Marry him, or marry me, I’m the one that loves you baby_

The rest of the dance went by in a high speed blur across the ice. There were a few more spins, another quick dance sequence, and then it was nearing the end.

_Said if you want to call me baby, just go ahead now_

Keith gained speed before dipping into a backward spiral, Shiro racing to catch up. Shiro held out his hand once he was close enough, and Keith grabbed it as he straightened to a stand. He let himself be pulled close, got his hands planted on Shiro’s shoulders, and then he was in the air as they span around.

The dance ended in their signature embrace as the music faded out. They held that pose for all of three seconds before breaking apart to collapse on the ice. Keith could dimly hear the cheers from Lance and Allura over the pounding of his own heart. He wasn’t sure what it looked like, but that had _felt_ like a damn perfect performance.

Shiro’s was sprawled on the ice next to him, breathing just as harshly. But he was smiling, face flushed with exertion and victory. Keith wanted to kiss him. Then he remembered, he _could_ kiss him. With an incredulous laugh, he dragged himself half on top of Shiro and planted a messy kiss, just off center from his lips.

If anything, the cheering from the sidelines only got louder.

 

 

“And now, presenting their free skate, please welcome back to the ice Takashi and Keith!”

The audience roared in response, eagerly anticipating the return of that night’s crowd favorite. Keith took in a deep breath, shaking the nerves out his hands. Shiro was a warm presence behind him, a silent encouragement, and they were each other’s support. With one last lingering glance, they nodded and entered the rink in tandem.

The spotlights swept across the ice to follow them, reflecting off the gems in their costumes. For the free skate, they were decked out in black and white bodysuits, meant to invoke the image of bridal outfits. Keith’s suit was adorned with various lilac and rose-colored gems along the sleeves, low neckline, and bare back again. Shiro’s shone a brilliant silver and indigo along the torso, sleeves, and pants as well.

Together, they made a stunning sight. Keith was sure of it.

They met in the center of the ice, back to back, and waited. The whole arena hushed and the moment swelled with anticipation. Then, the first soft notes of ‘Turning Page’ began and they were off.

_I’ve waited a hundred years, but I’d wait a million more for you_

Keith knew that they were on display for hundreds of people, but in that moment, all that mattered was him, Shiro, and the ice carving gracefully beneath them. Their hands met in the tenderest of holds, their bodies wove together to tell a tale of endless love. And Keith put his heart into it, meeting Shiro’s equally open adoration.

_Your love is my turning page_

Keith felt light as air as he lept into Shiro’s arms, letting himself get tossed in a now perfected pair throw. He landed with a grace long thought to be impossible, one leg extended in a spiral. Shiro skated past him, using speed and momentum to grab his elevated ankle and pull him along.

Keith drew himself close as they neared the end of the performance. A small musical interlude directed their slow waltz back to the center of the rink. Shiro cupped his face with a gentle hand and Keith leaned into the touch. That hadn’t been part of the choreography, but it fit the moment too well. 

Shiro flipped around, skating backwards and Keith followed, working to gain enough speed for their last move. Shiro’s hand was stretched towards him. Keith reached back and grabbed his hand, prepared both literally and metaphorically to never let go. For a brief moment, he was pulled forward, meeting Shiro face to face. Keith gave him a smile, full of love and trust, before turning around and letting himself fall.

_Like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees_

The feeling of a death spiral was indescribable. 

Keith was bent backwards, parallel to the ice, his body a delicate balance of tension and freefall. The only thing that was stopping him from crashing into the ice was Shiro’s strength, their hands tethering them together as he span low on the ice. There was a gravity between them, one that Keith didn’t have to fight anymore. He let the feeling pull him close, pull him up from the low dip until he was vertical and once again in Shiro’s arms.

The last piano notes faded out as they stood in the center, caught in a tight embrace. The arena filled with thunderous applause. They were both panting and sweating, but Keith didn’t hesitate to throw his arms around Shiro’s shoulders and pull him into a hasty kiss. Everything else tuned out except for the points of contact between them, alive with fire and passion and _life_.

Keith pulled back, thoroughly breathless, and laughed. Shiro joined in his mirth and hands still clutched tight, they turned and gave their final bows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song for the free skate was, of course, [Turning Page by Sleeping At Last](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Cry85KUzzU). i cry every time.
> 
> ANYWAYS that's it for this. thank you for reading my incredibly self-indulgent ice skating au. if i ever draw references for their outfits, i'll link them, but until then....use your beautiful imaginations lol
> 
> that's all folks! hmu on tumblr [@fratboyshiro](https://fratboyshiro.tumblr.com)


End file.
